The Definition of Slow
by foxfire79
Summary: Meredith is dead, and everything is going back to some semblance of normal, but apparently Viscountesses don't get as much free time as their Paramour's would like. Fenris wonders who exactly is in charge of their romance, and offers Hawke an ultimatum: Let him take their relationship slowly so he can be sure he won't lose her, or himself. But nobody ever thought to define 'slow'.


The Definition of Slow - A Dragon Age II Fan Fiction by Foxfire79 (Fenris/Hawke)

Sadly, I still don't work for Bioware. I would love to be one of their writers one day though, that would be brilliant. I do, however, play their games and enjoy their characters immensely, hence the fan fictions. In other words, I don't own anything I'm writing about, except for my female rogue, the lovely and sarcastic Rhiannon Hawke. Please don't sue me.

And so it begins...

Fenris looked down over the edge of the stony precipice and sighed. Hawke had leapt over it as soon as she'd noticed a flash of red glimmering at her through the bushes. All Fenris had heard was her yelling the word 'Red!' before she'd leapt, to know that she had clearly spotted something that could be worth selling on after their return to Kirkwall. He'd almost seen the Sovereign signs appear in her eyes. The woman would do anything for a little extra gold. Well, not EVERYTHING. She wasn't Isabela. And now she appeared to be stuck. He watched her pacing, with her arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, for a few more moments before he spoke up.

"Hawke."

She looked up at him, startled, her bright blue eyes squinting into the sunlight pouring over his shoulders. Her cheeks had turned a pretty shade of pink, though he wasn't quite certain why. He did so enjoy it when she blushed.

"Fenris. Fancy meeting you here."

Ah, sarcasm. He'd grown used to Hawke's acerbic wit over the past seven years, had even grown to enjoy it. In the past few months, he'd even started responding in kind, now that he was comfortable enough around her. Or had been, until recent events. He raised an eyebrow and peered down over the ledge at her.

"Looking to buy some new land?"

Hawke surveyed the tiny outcrop she was trapped on, kicking a loose pebble off the edge.

"Yes, actually. I think this ledge might be perfect for my new summer home. I could entertain guests over here, by the broken tree branch, put my bedroom over by that oddly shaped boulder... Maybe put up a gazebo to make use of this lovely view. Thoughts?"

Fenris stroked his chin, in mock consideration.

"Don't you think the area is a little too... small, for all those plans?"

Hawke sighed, and placed one hand on her hip, leaning on the same leg.

"I believe the real estate term would be 'cozy', not small. Anyway, did you want something?"

Fenris could feel one corner of his mouth curling up into a grin. She was still too damn proud to ask for help. There was obviously no way back up from the ledge, and Varric and Bethany had been lagging behind for a while. The trip back to Kirkwall from the Vimmark Mountains had been hot, tiring and uphill most of the way. He was literally the only person that could help her out of this predicament, and she was still too proud to ask for any help. He was surprised she managed to get so many people actually willing to follow her when she took such great pains in asking for things. He sat on the edge of the precipice and dangled his legs, making as if to drop down and join her. Hawke's eyes widened and she stepped toward him.

"Fenris, don't!"

He blinked at her, feigning innocence.

"Was that an order, Mistress Hawke? Did you just order me to do something? Like I was a common slave..."

Hawke covered her mouth, her eyes widening in horror.

"Oh Fenris, no, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..."

She trailed off when she realised he was chuckling, and threw a nasty glare at him.

"You're just... awful..."

Fenris' chuckle died away, and he smiled to himself, looking out over the vast expanse of desert before him.

"But isn't it good that I can finally joke about it... in moderation."

Hawke huffed and leaned back against the rocky wall, arms crossed over her chest again.

"I suppose it is an improvement. You don't have to be dour all the time. Intersperse it with some broodiness, and the occasional bout of righteous indignation. Ladies will be falling all over themselves just to be ignored by you..."

Fenris angled his head down a little more, to try and see the expression on Hawke's face. When she'd uttered the sentence about being ignored, she'd sounded almost... wistful. Did she feel that she was being ignored? Did she feel that HE was ignoring HER? Since Meredith had been defeated, almost three months ago now, they had barely seen each other. When Knight Captain Cullen had bent a knee to her after the battle, she had been named Viscountess of Kirkwall, and crowned within the week. The next month had been an almost endless flurry of paperwork and meetings with other heads of state and the noble families of Kirkwall, to try and get everything back into some semblance of order. The Knight Captain had also been promoted to Knight Commander, and had been attending meeting after meeting alongside Hawke, to try and get the Templars and the City Guard to make a truce with each other. Meredith had managed to leave quite a broken legacy behind. Fenris had begun to wonder if there was perhaps something going on between the young Knight Commander and Hawke, even after...

His mind flew back to the night of the battle against Orsino and Meredith, and the passionate confession of his intentions that he'd made to Hawke. The sinfully deep kiss they'd shared, just before storming the Gallows. If he'd had his way, he would have whisked her off into one of the dark alcoves and continued kissing her, wrestled her out of that Champion's armour, and would have taken her on one of the readily available stone benches, comfort be damned! He'd realised that she probably wouldn't have agreed to such a public union though, even in the heat of battle, with fear of defeat breathing down their necks. They had won though, eventually, and everyone had survived, surprisingly. Well, everyone except Anders, of course. Their love life, however... He'd gone to visit her at home, one of the nights he was certain she was there. He was certain because he had silently followed her all the way from the Viscount's Keep to her house, to make sure she arrived there safely. It was about a month and a half after the final battle, and everything had been starting to calm down. She'd barely entered the residence before he'd knocked brusquely. She'd looked up at him, surprised but happy to see him, and had let him straight in...

**One and a half months earlier...**

"Fenris! I'm so glad you're here..."

She made a move as if it come forward and hug him, then stopped herself, settling on reaching out one hand and resting it on his forearm. Her clear blue eyes gazed directly into his green ones, and as always he found himself drowning in them. He had to speak to her before he forgot the entire reason for his being here. He stepped forward and grasped her upper arms with both hands, drawing her more closely to him.

"Hawke... We need to discuss this... us..."

Her gaze faltered, and she looked away to the side.

"I know. It's just been so busy. Apparently I don't stop being the Viscountess when I leave the Keep. Seneschal Bran sent a messenger over here at three-thirty this morning to ask me about patterns for the invitations for some Ball I'm supposed to be hosting next week. Surely that could have waited until after I'd had breakfast, but..."

She trailed off, and brought her gaze back to his.

"Sorry, that was really off-topic. You were saying...?"

Fenris released one of her arms, and cupped her cheek with his gauntlet clad hand.

"I was saying we need to discuss our... relationship..."

Being this close to her after spending so much time apart was... distracting to say the least. He ran his finger down her cheek, and her eyes closed, leaning into the feel of the cold leather moving against her skin. Her mouth dropped open and she sighed, smiling slightly. To the void with the discussion! He pushed her backwards until her back hit the front door she'd just closed, and he pressed his lips against hers, suppressing a groan of relief. Maker, he'd missed this. Her lips parted beneath his, and her felt the tip of her tongue tracing along his lower lip, teasing him. The woman certainly knew how to tease him... He replied in kind by meeting her tongue with his, and soon they were battling for dominance as he still held her pressed against the door, his arms holding her captive. He pressed one of his legs between her thighs, nudging her legs gently apart, and she gasped at the contact, her head falling back to knock against the hard wood of the door. Fenris pulled back far enough to look into her eyes.

"You alright?"

She nodded, not speaking, eyes fixed firmly with his, the light blue seeming to darken with her desire for him. He nodded, more to himself then to her.

"Good."

He grasped her rear, and pulled her legs around his waist, thrusting her back up against the door again. He was really glad that the robe ensemble she wore around the house was only knee length, seeing as there was barely any material bunched up between him and the soft curves of the well trained rogue's body. He could feel her lips curving up into a smile as she ground herself against his armour, stifling a groan of her own into his neck. Once again, she'd ended up in charge. Every time, he'd try to be the dominant partner, and every time she turned the tables on him. She had more experience, this was true, but he was learning. Reading Varric's books had been an eye-opening experience. He'd discovered many things he'd wish to try on Hawke from those smut-filled pages. If only she'd give him the chance to be in charge for once. He found himself sighing, not really as 'in' the moment as he had been earlier. Hawke lifted her face from the crook of his shoulder, frowning slightly.

"What's wrong?"

Fenris gave her a long, dark gaze, before pulling back from her, allowing her feet to hit the floor once more. He straightened her robe, and fixed a few strands of her hair which had fallen over her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow, clearly put out.

"You did what you always do, Hawke. You took command of the situation."

She rolled her eyes, leaning on one hip.

"Stop being so melodramatic. We were both enjoying ourselves... Weren't we?"

Fenris folded his arms across his chest, mimicking her stance.

"Perhaps some more than others."

Hawke raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, really?"

Fenris puffed out a breath, looking away from her.

"Yes, really. You don't even realise you're doing it, do you? Making everyone march to the beat of your drum, not paying attention to what anyone else wants, or needs..."

Hawke shuffled in front of him, making him meet her now stormy blue eyes.

"Is that what you think I do?"

He raised one hand to touch her cheek, but pulled back before he made contact.

"It IS what you do. Look how easily you became Viscountess. I'm sure that anyone else would have had years of lineage checking and would have to find benefactors to speak for them before the other heads of State before they were even acknowledged as being a candidate. You wander in, an ex-refugee, punch some Qunari, kill some Mages, bring down Meredith, and you're suddenly the darling of Hightown. You have the Guard Captain and Knight Commander wrapped around your little finger, and you have friends in what's left of the Chantry. You can do no wrong. So why should you listen to anyone else? I came here this evening wanting to talk to you. I ended up kissing you, which was entirely my doing. Then you wanted to take it one step further. I don't want our third time together to be against your front door, Hawke. We... deserve better than that."

Hawke reached out and took his hand gently in hers.

"I'm listening now."

He looked back into her eyes, and she looked genuinely contrite. He took a deep breath before continuing.

"I don't want to rush this, Hawke. I've lost too many other things, and I don't want to lose you. Just please, let me do this at my own pace. I know this will undoubtedly be hard for you. Please just try. For us."

Hawke looked down at their linked hands, and smiled.

"I'll try. I will try and take it slow. For the betterment of us."

Fenris smiled and drew her into his arms in a tender embrace.

"Thank you... Rhiannon."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise, and she pulled back just far enough to look into his eyes.

"Did you just...?"

Fenris took the opportunity to swoop in and steal a kiss, while she was in shock over the fact he'd used her first name. She relaxed in his arms, letting him control the intensity of the kiss. She didn't try to pull him closer, or deepen it, she just let him explore the contours of her lips with his own, for as long as he wanted. This was what it was like to kiss as a truly free man. He opened his eyes, eventually, and pulled his face away albeit reluctantly. Hawke's eyes were only half open, and the smile that graced her features... Maker's Breath. He hoped he'd been the only man to ever see that smile upon her lips. Perhaps taking it slow had been a foolish idea? He brushed that thought away in a second, although he did start to lean in to steal another kiss before he left. He was stopped by a shocked squeak coming from the entrance to the vestibule. He'd remembered that Bodahn and Sandal had left for Orlais, but Orana was still in the house. Well, shit. Hawke straightened herself up again, pulling away just as reluctantly as he had previously, and addressed her maid.

"Ahem... Hello, Orana. I hope this evening finds you well?"

The shocked young elf dropped a curtsy out of pure habit, her cheeks aflame. She didn't seem to know where to look, so she kept her eyes glued firmly on the ground.

"Good evening, Mistress. I'm very well, thank you."

Hawke straightened out the skirt of her robe again, and politely ushered Fenris to the door.

"I was just... seeing Fenris out. He walked me home from the Viscount's Keep, you know, just in case..."

Orana raised her eyes from the floor, a ghost of a smile appearing across her features.

"How very chivalrous, Mistress. I've prepared you a late supper, if Ser Fenris wishes to stay and eat he may do so."

Fenris shook his head.

"I don't wish to outstay my welcome. And you don't have to call me 'Ser', Orana, I'm not a knight."

Orana's eyes had dropped to the floor again.

"I have to call you something, though, and you won't allow me to call you 'Master'..."

Fenris sighed, running a hand over his forehead.

"If it's a choice between 'Ser' and 'Master' I suppose I can live with the former. Good evening, Orana."

He gave Hawke one more of his dark, penetrating stares before he disappeared out into the night.

"Hawke."

As the door closed behind him, he could hear the excited squealing of the elven maid as she no doubt started questioning Hawke about what had actually been happening with him before she'd entered the room. He knew Hawke wouldn't tell her all the details, but he found that he didn't mind. She'd agreed to let him take things at his own pace. That was a big first step forward...

**One and a half months later...**

And that was all it had been so far. A big first step then... nothing. For one and a half months. He'd barely seen her, hardly talked to her, the couple of times they had gone out together it had been on patrol, so it had mostly been them fighting off bandits peppered with witty banter. No time for any serious talking. No time for any relationship development. No time for anything important at all. The rest of her time was still being stolen by Seneschal Bran, Aveline and the handsome Knight Commander. Fenris rankled every time he thought of that knight of the righteous spending more time with his lover than he did. Something had to be done.

Then the carta attacks had happened, against Bethany and Hawke. Varric had tracked the particular carta group attacking them to the Vimmark Mountains, and strangely enough Hawke had invited him along for the trip. It wasn't going to be a romantic trip, by any means, but it was still time away with her. She had spent rather a lot of time with her sister, though. True, they didn't see each other often as Bethany lived in the Circle, but they did write to each other constantly. The couple of times he had started a conversation with Hawke, Varric had sarcastically called him out for being 'smooth'. He'd decided that witty banter was easier than deep conversation while in Varric's company. They had run out of time for conversations, however when an ancient darkspawn which was convinced it was a Tevinter Magister decided to make itself known. That Corypheus certainly was a mood breaker.

They'd killed him fairly quickly. It had been a nice surprise. Then escaped the prison with pretty much no trouble, and now they were on their way home. Hawke had promised the Knight Commander that she'd have Bethany back to the Circle within the week. It had taken them two days to get to the Vimmark's and two days to deal with the carta and Corypheus, leaving them three days to travel back to Kirkwall at a leisurely pace. They hadn't factored in the heat or the gradient of the trip home. Bethany and Varric had been struggling, Bethany because of her heavy Circle robes and Varric because of the length of his strides. Hawke and Fenris had been fine, and had pulled ahead with no problem. But their conversation had refused to flow. Certainly they'd been civil with each other, but hadn't really moved away from simple pleasantries. Until she'd spotted something red and jumped off a cliff.

"Hawke..."

He began to form an apology, trying to explain that he hadn't been ignoring her but letting her get on with her work without interfering. The words died in his throat when he saw how forlorn she looked, staring out at the vast expanse of sand before them.

"What is it, Fenris?"

Her voice sounded defeated and over-tired. It had been a long four days, after all. She looked up when he didn't answer, and saw him reaching a hand down for her, while bracing himself against a large boulder at the edge of the cliff.

"Take my hand, Hawke. I've got you."

She reached up gratefully, and found herself being hoisted, almost effortlessly, back over the lip of the canyon and onto the main thoroughfare. He didn't let go of her hand though, instead curling her body against his in a warm embrace. She sighed in his arms happily. Clearly she'd been missing him as much as he had her.

"Thank you, Fenris."

He kissed the top of her head, then rested his cheek upon it, basking in her warmth.

"Never forget, Rhiannon. I am yours, as always."

She pulled away and turned to face him, one hand playing with the short hair at the back of his neck.

"You did it again..."

He squinted at her, feigning ignorance.

"Did what?"

She grinned and pulled his face down closer to hers.

"You used my first name. I love it when you say my first name. Your voice echoes through my being, I can feel it down to my toes... and in other places..."

His ears twitched at this, and a faint grin played across his lips.

"Is that so... Rhiannon..."

He moved his left hand to grasp her hip as his right hand was still curled around her back, holding her to him. He felt her shiver when he said her name for the second time, and he felt a strange heat start to blossom in his stomach. He had power over her. He looked into her eyes, and saw that they were already growing darker with her need for him, and Bethany and Varric still weren't within sight...

"Rhiannon..."

He pressed her as gently as he could against the great boulder, kissing her with urgency, tangling his fingers through her short black hair. She pulled away from the boulder, and removed her twin daggers, throwing them to the ground before laying herself back against the rock. Her hands ranged up and down his back, over his armour, but he could feel the heat of them through the leather and metal. She still didn't force him closer though, or wrap her legs around him to urge him to speed up, she let him continue at his own pace, exploring, learning, tasting. Fenris didn't pull away until he heard Varric and Bethany approaching from further down the hill. Hawke's lips were puffy, and her eyes heavy lidded with desire still. He hoped they wouldn't notice. He leaned casually against the boulder beside her and waited for the mage and the other rogue to appear. Hawke stood up, shakily, and leaned beside him, resting her head on his shoulder, a small smile forming on her lips. Clearly she wasn't feeling ignored any longer. They remained like that until the dwarf and the young woman came into sight. Bethany waved, and cupped her hands around her mouth to shout at them.

"Oiy! Get a room, you two!"

Hawke snorted, and nudged him in the side.

"Lucky they didn't see us earlier, eh?"

Fenris glanced sideways at her and smiled. Then glanced at the daggers lying in the dust before them, as did Hawke.

"Oh, crap!"

She strapped the daggers back into the scabbards, then rested nonchalantly back against the boulder. Fenris turned to look at her.

"Incidentally, what did you find on the ledge? The red thing. What was it?"

Hawke looked away, her jaw tightening, a blush crossing her cheeks again.

"It was only a bloody embrium! I risked my life for a stupid red flower."

Fenris scanned her, but couldn't spot the flower anywhere.

"After all that, did you leave it down there?"

Hawke reached her hand down the front of her armour, and pulled out the slightly squashed blossom.

"Now what sort of roguish treasure-seeker would I be if I left the treasure on the dangerous ledge?"

She raised her eyebrows questioningly at Fenris, expecting an answer.

"A bad one?"

Hawke nodded, and placed the flower behind her ear.

"You're damn right a bad one. And I am not a bad one."

She sauntered away from the boulder, and him, and went to meet her sister. He couldn't help but stare at her swaying hips as she walked, and once more cursed himself for choosing to take this relationship slowly. But then who was he to define the word slow. Taking a relationship slowly could mean one thing to him and an entirely different thing to her. That may have been why she was feeling ignored, when he'd only thought he was giving her space. He really did miss the physical side of the relationship too, as when he'd broken the kiss it had taken all of his strength to not grab her and continue on. It was time for the definition of slow to change. Either that, or he'd go mad. And he wasn't having that.

END OF PART 01

So here's the beginning of my DAII story, hope you guys like it, starting writing this at 10.30pm and it is now currently 7.30am. No I did not sleep. Yes I am aware that's not a good thing, but I am on holidays, and you can't stop me, you're not my real parents. At any rate, read, review and enjoy! Part 2 will be coming out shortly, possibly after I've either had a sleep or played another 6 hours of Inquisition. Probably the latter.

Foxfire Out!


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